Courage and Foolishness
by emptyli'lfirefly
Summary: Is it courage or foolishness to love without hope? To know that the other person will never feel the same way, and yet loyally bind yourself to them without question? Neville could never decide.
1. Of Courage and Foolishness

Author: empty_firefly

Main Characters: Hermione, Neville

Rating: M (Swearing!)

Chapter Synopsis: Is it courageous or foolish to love without hope?

Disclaimer: The world and the characters within this story belong to J.K. Rowling, I am simply an enthusiastic fan.

Author's Note: Hey everyone, I'm sorry I've been so terrible about updates, the sad truth is that as I get older I recognise the poor quality of my older stories and struggle to work up any enthusiasm to continue. So in the meantime, here's a small story, of a rather odd topic, that I hope you enjoy!

Prologue: Of Courage and Foolishness

One day by the lake Hermione asked whether we thought it was courageous or foolish to love without hope. To know that the other person will never feel the same way, and yet to loyally bind yourself to them without question.

Of course, she did not ask us for theoretical curiosity, but simply for her own sake; wondering if the torch she held made her the laughing stock or the envy of all her friends.

I told her that it was foolish. What I didn't tell her is why.

I always saw her hanging around Harry, laughing at his jokes, blushing at his thoughtless flirtation, wishing that he would look at her when he was lonely, and I would pity her. Anyone could tell that he never looked at her, that he couldn't really see her because he knew he would always have her. It was not intended as torture on his part, more an assumption of what he was owed out of the friendship. Therefore, why would he ever need to give her more?

So she was just stuck there, loving him, doing everything for him, and he just ignored the obvious, slowly killing her without even knowing he had the power to do so.

Could you get any more foolish than that?

Lavender, as perhaps an even more foolish romantic, responded by clasping her hand and assuring her that it was very brave. After all, what could be more courageous than sacrificing your happiness, your heart, your life, to someone without any expectation of something in return? Besides, she may even get lucky.

Maybe one day he'll turn around and see everything that she is.

Maybe one day she'll be rewarded for her loyalty.

With such an explanation as that she couldn't help herself; she had to maintain her affection. She did everything one might expect, crying when he loved someone else, full of excitement whenever something good happened to him. She said that there was nothing quite like living in love to show you just how much life was nothing more than a trip on a yoyo.

And then I did something courageously foolish: I in turn fell in love with her. And I did everything that I hated to see her do: crying over her tears, cheering for her joy, secretly hoping she would notice the attention that I paid to her. I could feel myself changing, trying desperately to make her notice what was right in front of her.

And I finally understood what she meant when she asked us that question so long ago: it really had never been about courage or foolishness in the normal sense of the words. It was about self-respect, and whether letting it go was okay if it was for the one that you loved. And if not, was there a way to love without hope, and still maintain your dignity.

The answer of course was: no, no you can't. Because if you are going to love, then you have to love with everything. And if you love with all you have, and the other person doesn't love you back, there's nothing left.

Until the horrible, heartbreakingly joyful day when you fall out of love. And that's when the courage to live on really has to step in.

And I suppose that is where this story should have gone, but of course life is never so simple. So instead I'm going to start with the most painful part, the day she found out I loved her. It happened to be in a greenhouse.

A/N: I think this story will be around seven chapters long, so please let me know what you think because I currently have two possible endings in mind and I'm not sure which way to go with it!


	2. Interval One: In the Greenhouse

Author: empty_firefly

Main Characters: Hermione, Neville

Rating: T

Chapter Synopsis: An account of how Neville's life went from bad to worse.

Disclaimer: I am a fan. This is fiction. I know I don't own J.K. Rowling's stuff, and I don't want to.

Author's Note: I hope you find this vaguely interesting, I know the inner voice I've made for Neville is probably not what most people imagine. But I figure after the year under the Carrows, and the inner-angst I've shoved onto him, sarcasm is bound to have emerged!

* * *

Interval One: In the Greenhouse

I might as well begin this accursed chapter in my tale by building for you a picture. My life post-war: finishing my final year at Hogwarts, managed to wrestle some respect from my peers, laughter in our halls remains perturbed, and currently head-over-heels in love with one Hermione Granger.

And her partner in Herbology.

On the whole not a bad life, expect for the last two. For one thing, as I have already explained, there are few pains worse than loving without hope, and for another, there are few things harder than standing within a couple feet of that person.

And being able to smell their perfume. Which is slightly peach-like on this day.

"Neville, I don't think we're doing this right. Isn't it meant to be calm when we're harvesting."

Yes, yes it is Hermione, and it's not because I'm having trouble concentrating right now.

"Sorry, just hide the clippers for a second." I try to take a deep breath, before stepping forward to slowly stroke the stalk of this particular carnivorous plant. Who ever knew there were so many? As expected it immediately went taught in recognition of... well, basically the start of the pollination process. Oh gods, I'm masturbating a plant. This is probably as lucky as I'm going to get all year.

"Thanks!" She begins clipping leaves of with her usual precision. "So, have you figured out what you're doing with your life yet?"

Having babies with you?

"University, Herbology, become Professor Sprout. Just a quick sex-change to pop in at some point and I'll be set."

The wry humor set in at some point after I realized I had managed to survive the war. It tends to emerge on particularly difficult days. So, basically any time I was paired up with Hermione.

She laughs lightly, breeze flipping her hair slightly closer to my face. God I hate being a teenager.

"Glad to hear you've got it all sorted out at this point!"

"And you? Got any plans with your best buddies sorted out?" Yes, that it my version of asking subtly. What I'm really asking I'm not sure. But it definitely isn't subtle. Just like the slight touch of bitterness hidden by the concentration needed for the plant.

A slight sigh of regret, then she's back to enjoying my company, "Harry and Ron are planning to be the heads of the Auror Department before they're thirty. I'm heading to University for a nice generic degree so I can figure out what I actually want to do with my life. You're lucky to have such a clear plan."

Sure, lucky, lucky me.

"Well, speaking as a guy currently masturbating a plant, I think you're going to be fine. More than fine, in fact. If anyone was going to be a huge success it's you: you'll probably end up being a Professor by 25, save the house elves by 30, then have a huge brood of adorable but frustratingly perfect children."

With someone else.

She smiles, her eyes dancing at the thought of the future I had laid out for her. I just hope she doesn't realise how clearly I have thought it through.

"That sounds like a nice life, Neville. Though I'm not sure about the children part: I'm not good with them." Her voice drops with a slight touch of distress and I want to groan with frustration. Any ninny can see she's thinking about Harry's wish for children, and her growing certainty that they won't be hers. Would it be cruel or kind to mention Ginny?

Hermione shakes her head, apparently to clear it of any silliness, "Just be glad you don't have my cares."

Yep, that's me: 'Careless Neville' as the kids these days like to call me.

"Well, I have worked very hard the last year to avoid be interesting in any way!"

Just concentrate on the plant, think deeply about how important the plant is, and how sad it'll be if I stop what I'm doing. At least there's one thing in existence that is reliant on me.

"Oh don't be silly Neville, you're a very interesting boy." She beams at me over the plant, apparently she thinks being called a 'silly boy' will reassure me.

I am clearly in a very bad mood here, I probably shouldn't be around other people right now.

Conversation finally pauses between us, giving me an opportunity to regain some self-control.

"Oi Longbottom, stop flirting with Granger and help me out with this bloody plant!"

And just like that everything manages to go from bad to worse.

She glares angrily at Seamus across the room, then looks back at me to share an eye roll at the foolishness of our peers. I, on the other hand, have managed to go bright red and desperately try to avoid meeting her eyes. Perhaps my innate failure to disguise any emotions whatsoever is why I'm not in Slytherin. The only real question is why aren't I in Hufflepuff?

"Neville?" Her voice is hesitant, just enough to make me glance up briefly with a small glitter of hope nestled in my stupid heart.

Right up until it shatters at the slight touch of horror in her eyes.

Horror! Like it's somehow the worst thing that could've happened to her. Poor girl.

She looks away, of course, and I quickly make my way across the room. She's never going to be able to look me in the eye again, I can just tell. But then again, neither am I. I suppose a life without mirror's isn't too bad.

"Seamus, sweet Seamus. I know you've got a girlfriend now, but something tells me you have a great deal of experience with masturbation. So just stroke the goddam plant while your partner uses the clippers. Is that so difficult?"

I allow my mouth to run-off ahead of me, Seamus isn't really listening. My eyes wander back at Hermione, just long enough to see that she was quickly starting to pack up.

Great. My life is, as always, freaking amazing.

* * *

AN: Any thoughts? Questions? Comments? I do hope you'll let me know if you do. Otherwise I'll have no choice but to push Neville's life from bad to worse!

I would also like to extend my thanks to my first and, thus far, only reviewer! Give a warm round of applause for: DARTH GOJIRA!

Oh gods, so desperately thankful for scraps of acknowledgement... hopefully the fact that I have actually updated a story will improve my prospects!


	3. Interval Two: At The End of Year Feast

Author: empty_firefly

Main Characters: Hermione, Neville

Rating: T

Chapter Synopsis: An account of how Neville would rather sulk than deal with his issues.

Disclaimer: Alas, J.K. forgot to include this in the canon editions of her books, but it's okay: I've got it covered!

Author's Note: Hello to all my readers (all two of you!), I hope you find this next installment enjoyable. The 'interval' format is something that I always knew I wanted to write this story within, but I'm not sure if that intention was indicated within the first two chapters! Oh well, now ya know!

So, funny story, I could've sworn that I uploaded this about a year ago... apparently not... so ehm... sorry about that!

* * *

Interval Two: At The End of Year Feast

You would think that after someone found out you were stupid in love with them they'd just try to act like it had never happened. I mean, that's what I would do. That's what you would do. No question. But no, apparently when the smartest girl in your year finds out, she would much rather avoid you for the rest of the year. Except when she physically can't, in which case she stands as far away from you as possible and won't even look at you.

And apparently the best way for her to deal with it is to tell her best friends, who immediately tell their girl friends, who then tell the rest of the school, and you become a complete laughing stock.

Yeah, so... life? Not my favourite thing at the moment!

To think, I'd been so close to making it through my school career without her finding out as well. Sure makes it a bitter pill to swallow.

I'd also never noticed how much Gryffs enjoy laughing at each other's expense. I mean, I'd been the brunt of their jokes for so long you'd think I would've noticed, but apparently I'd been looking over the particular characteristic. Until they made every day living Hell.

But all my stupid reflections aside, it's nearly over, one last feast. One last night sitting closer to her than either of us would like. Then it's over. On to our separate lives and I never have to think about this humiliation again.

A lie of course, I know better than anyone that it's not easy to forget things just because you want to.

"So, Neville, where are you off to this summer? You've been awful quiet lately!" Ginny thinks she's helping me out of my shell by drawing me into the conversation. Hermione across from me stills abruptly, while Harry and Ron share amused glances.

Maybe next time instead of killing the massive snake I'll just unleash on the Gryff populace?

"Gran and I are checking out the Herbology uni in Paris, then we're on to the Amazon to check out their program. I've got my choices down but we just want to check the grounds before I make the final decision."

Wow, so many words! I stare at my plate but I can almost hear Hermione bursting to ask questions about the programs. She won't of course.

"Wow, you've definitely got it sorted!"

"What about you Ginny?"

I'm not really bothering to listen as she rabbits on about starting her Quidditch career, anything to shift their attention. Dear Merlin, only another half an hour to go and then I'm free.

"Come on Nev, be straight with us: got some girl hidden away waiting for when you graduate? Surely you're not really going to travel the world with your Gran?" Ron Weasley smirks quietly, he thinks he's being funny.

Hermione hits him lightly and Harry shakes his head, too relaxed to do anything to reign the Weasley siblings in. Ah how victory has changed us all.

"Your faith in my ability to woo is touching Weasley, but sadly unfounded. And I assure you that there is no one I would rather spend time with than my Gran right now."

It's only when I get upset that I slip into Pureblood speak, but I suppose it's better than just stuttering until they go away.

"Besides, we all know who he's head-over-heels for anyway!" Seamus snickers loudly through a mouth full of potatoes and I silently ponder the possibility that I did actually die and am now in Hell.

The rest of the table laughs uproariously, Hermione goes beat-red while Harry places a comforting arm around her and I groan quietly.

They look at Hermione like she's meant to have some response, which - of course - the cowardly girl has anything but. So instead they turn back to me, mockingly waiting for me to try and deny it.

This is not my day.

"Why thank you Seamus for once again pointing out my feelings for Hermione, it's almost as if you think it's anyone's business other than my own! Why don't you stop worrying about my love-life and start focusing on your own pathetic excuse for one?"

Seamus looks slightly gobsmacked and about ready to unleash some train of obscenities when I stand up.

"You know what, as fun as this final feast has been I think I'd rather not spend my last day here in your painful company. Go find another pinata to smack around."

I flee the Great Hall with as much dignity as I can manage. Which is not a lot considering I have to get off of a tightly packed bench and stumble past a large group of merry-makers. By the time I get to the door I'm about ready to slaughter people when a hand touches my arm.

"Neville... don't you think how you feel is my business too?" Her soft voice flutters up to my ears and I'm about ready to groan again.

I turn around and there she is, her face contorted in confusion, her hair messed up from hurrying to catch up with me.

"Frankly, no I don't think it is. It might've been when you first found out, but at this point they have nothing to do with you. I feel how I feel and there's nothing that can be done about it. Sometime soon I'll get over this stupidity, but until then I'm just going to have to put up with them."

Her confusion turns to frustration and she impatiently tries to fix her hair - an old habit that'll probably never die. "Stop trying to make me feel guilty about this! I'm sorry Neville that I don't return your fee-"

"I'm gonna cut you off right there before you try to turn this into some big drama, Hermione. I know you don't like me, in fact you've made it abundantly clear that you are disgusted by the very concept. I'm just trying to make you wake up and face reality: you're never going to love me, Harry's never going to love you, and the both of us are just going to have to live with it! And if you think for even a second that I want some kind of pity from you, you've got another thing coming!"

She's crying now, and I'd feel terrible except that I know that it's just the reality check that's upset her, not the concept that she might have behaved poorly. Of course, she's Hermione Granger; therefore of course she can't do anything wrong. I run a hand through my hair in frustration and we stand there for a moment, not really sure what to do next.

"I'm sorry Neville, I didn't know..."

"Of course not." I hasten to assure her, mostly desperate to get out of this conversation as fast as possible. I pat her gently and step away from her. "I'll see you around."

She smiles lightly and this time she lets me go. Probably happy to see the last of me.

Except, of course, that it won't be. Because fate's not done with us yet.

* * *

AN: Thanks Vera Rozalsky for your review! It's funny, but I have never really thought about this ship until I started writing it, but now I definitely feel its an interesting element - possibly even canon in theory!


	4. Interval Three: In a Pub

Author: empty_firefly

Main Characters: Hermione, Neville

Rating: M

Chapter Synopsis: Neville finds himself amongst familiar faces and the same old problems.

Author's Note: So, the rash of updates continue. Is there hope for me yet? Feedback is always appreciated, although there's no guarantee I'll act on it: speaking of which I should really check out those problems with the first chapter!

* * *

Interval Three: In a Pub Amongst Old Friends

Would you believe that it was a whole year until I was stuck in that position again?

'What position?' you may ask. Or perhaps, 'a whole year? Wow, Neville, what self-control you must have recently gained?' But really, I suspect you don't really care.

The position is that overwhelming self-loathing as I watch Hermione pine over Harry whilst surrounded by a group of friends that spend most of their time making me miserable.

Yes, a whole year.

Of course, it helped that I'd spent the university year in the Amazon, far away from anyone from my youth and with extremely limited means of communication with the mainland. I was also ridiculously busy trying to learn as much as possible to distract myself from my pitiful existence. Funnily enough, that's the kind of behaviour that convinced the sweet girl next to me that I was worthy of spending time with. Gabrielle Delacour is possibly one of the prettiest girls I've ever met, bar one obvious exception, and its that exception at the back of my mind that made me treat her like a human. Which it turned out that she liked.

Don't misunderstand me, we're not dating, but we're very good friends, and it was only because of her begging to meet the famous Harry Potter again that I agreed to come to this ridiculous reunion.

In a pub. Of all the places to hang out, why did we choose a dingy pub in the middle of London?

Anywho, after the initial exclamations of greeting everyone went back to ignoring me in favour of chatting about something hilarious that happened the week before I got back - of course. Hermione's as overwhelmingly lovely as ever, a feeling I'd hoped would quickly dissipate, but instead it seems to have gotten worse. She's a young woman now, watching Harry become even more serious with Ginny, while Ron waits at the sideline waiting for her to remember how well they snog.

Urgh, snogging Ron, now there's a visual I can't get out of my head.

"You know Neville, when you said you were meeting up with friends, I thought you were actually going to talk to them!" Gabrielle gazes at me with amusement, her pet-project over the past year has been speaking without a French accent, something she has managed extraordinarily well.

"Yes Gabrielle, but why would I speak to these ordinary English people when I could speak to a mysterious young French woman?" I attempt a charming grin, but the look on her face suggests it needs more work.

"Who happens to struggle at locating live specimens of gillyweed?"

"Now, now, if anything that only adds to your mysterious air! Besides, it's quite helpful to work with a partner so good at clearing away dead plant-life, it makes it so much easier for me to find them!"

Gabrielle shrieks angrily at me, switching to French expletives as she smacks me repeatedly over the head. "Neville! Do not tell me you took advantage of my failures to improve your final grade!"

Hermione and her boys are now staring at us with smiles as I try to fend off her attacks. Glad to see they enjoy my pain as much as ever.

"Gaby I did no such thing! My Gods, calm down woman or you'll develop a hernia."

She stops abruptly when she notices our audience has observed her unladylike behaviour and begins to busily stare at the drink in front of her.

"So Gabrielle, has Neville not been behaving himself this year?" The close family-tie makes Ron stumble past staring at her beauty to actually talk to her like a human being.

"Oh no, he's been an absolute gentleman! In fact," she glances around leans forward conspiratorially, the others lean in with interest, "he's so sweet that most of the girls ask him to walk them around the campus at night! They know he'd never ever do anything untoward!"

I must admit I smirk with a touch of pride, and I'm shocked to say that Harry looks pretty proud of me too. I have to remember that just because he stole the heart of the woman I love doesn't mean he's a bad guy...

"To be fair, I think most of them reckon I'm gay anyway, so there's no risk in the first place." I take a quick gulp of my drink and hope that the joke will be enough to change the tone of the conversation.

"Don't be ridiculous Neville, in fact if you hadn't been such a bloody do-gooder you would have taken Mandy up on that date, instead of setting her up with someone else!"

"What? I knew he liked her and she didn't not like him, how could I behave otherwise?"

Okay, this is definitely not how I want this to be going, one more word on the topic and Hermione's sure to know that I haven't moved on like I swore I would. Or worse the entire table will figure it out and they'll start giving me Hell again.

"Neville was always quite self-sacrificing when it came to putting other people's feelings first." Hermione muses quietly, examining me with her practiced eyes. It feels like she can read my soul when she does that.

"Oh yeah, like in Seventh Year!" Ron pipes in, I cringe slightly, but to my surprise find that he's not smirking at me. He's not even laughing. In fact, I'd almost say he's looking at me with an ounce of respect.

"Anywho, moving away from an awkward topic now I desperately ask: Harry, how's Auror training going?"

The others smile good natured-ly, but Harry answers the question anyway, sparking a debate over some protocol that I know nothing about. I offer to get Gabrielle another drink and head up to the bar, just grateful I got out of that conversation in one piece.

"Hey Neville." Hermione steps up next to me casually as I wait. I take a moment to let myself look at her: she seems tired, losing her spark.

"Hey Hermione. How are you?"

She blushes lightly and tries to answer with some stupid placating phrase.

"Mione, come on, this is me: you're not looking to great tonight."

She pauses to look at me, then sighs quietly - good Merlin, is there anything she does that isn't gorgeous? "It's just this whole thing with Harry, I thought it would pass, but here I still am. I think he and Ginny are about to get engaged, and I'm stuck at the sidelines pining like some teenager. It's all rather depressing."

I hate that tone so much: she's allowed herself to be defeated by it all. And here I thought I was struggling.

"You're going to be fine Hermione. I promise! This'll pass and you'll find someone to love who loves you back one day."

"Is that what you did?" She glances back at Gabrielle sitting at the pub table looking like some kind of princess.

I blink, what the Hell? Does she really think she has the right to ask that kind of question after everything she's put me through?

"I'm afraid I'm still a work in progress too Mione." I grab the drinks and quickly head back to the table.

Call me crazy, but I can't help but feel like we might've just had a moment... was that a moment?


	5. Interval Four: At a Pointless Function

Author: empty_firefly

Main Characters: Neville, Hermione

Rating: M

Chapter Summary: In which Neville sees a light at the end of the tunnel

Author's Note: I know, I know, worst updater of all time. I've rushed this one off without much editing, so if there are any glaring mistakes I apologies profusely and will fix them at a later date.

* * *

Interval Four: At a Pointless Function

Six months later finds me sitting awkwardly.

Where you may ask? Why at the inaugural "Yay Voldemort's Dead Festival". Okay, maybe that's not what it's called; but it's what we're all thinking.

Oh, and why am I awkward you might be wondering? Because I'm sitting at a table of Hufflepuffs reminiscing about how much fun our Hogwarts days were. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Hufflepuffs in general, but for some reason whenever they're together at a big event they all get emotional. I should've brought a date. I didn't because I honestly didn't have anyone I felt like taking - Gabrielle's off with what has been termed a "sexy Spaniard". The funny thing is I think that's honestly why I'm alone: I feel a surprisingly low amount of pining. For... well, you know.

Speaking of whom, she's looking particularly beautiful tonight. You know, if you're into that sort of thing. Without permission my eyes start seeking her out in the crowd. Ah, there she is: the Golden Trio plus Ginny are gathered together sharing dastardly plots. Or, in this case, if Ginny's gesticulation is anything to go by, an engagement. Even across the room I can see the impact this has on her. She's so enthusiastic you think she just might cry. Well, she probably is about to.

Dammit, stop obsessing Neville, this isn't healthy at all.

Although, that does answer the hovering question of if she had sorted out her feelings. Perhaps she just buried them after all. Not that I'm interested or anything.

Harry glances up, sees my attention and waves me over. To act surprised or to not act surprised? I weave my way through the dance floor - perhaps not the best choice of paths. Hannah briefly attaches herself to me, slobbering out cries of affection and fond memories, but I manage to disengage and keep going. It's practically a battlefield out there.

I smile congenially at them all and - prompted by Ginny's less than subtle hand movements - gasp in surprise and excitement.

"Congratulations! So Harry finally managed to grow a pair!"

My words are naturally lessened by the brotherly hug Ginny receives and the manly handshake on Harry's part.

"Thanks Neville! I was just saying that we're planning on having an outside wedding: maybe you could help sort out the garden at The Burrow? Who knows what's grown there since the gnomes moved out!"

I have to admit I do feel a bit jealous. Not of either partner in particular, just the having someone like this. They're so secure and sure of themselves.

"Absolutely, I'll pop by next week and have a look."

Ron claps me on the back, "This is bloody fantastic; I always wanted a brother! Well, I'm gonna go grab a drink!"

One last smack across my shoulders and he's gone. Why is it Aurors always feel the need to demonstrate their physical strength?

I glance over at Hermione. She carefully doesn't look at me. Back to that again I suppose.

"So Ginny, picked a date yet?"

If the conversation lulls I just know I'll say something stupid: best to keep the future-bride going for as long as possible.

"We were thinking maybe in the spring. The garden's nicest then, plus it gives us a good bit of time to get things ready without waiting ridiculously long..."

I tune Ginny out for a moment, Hermione has her hand on Harry's arm and gesturing to the nearby doors. He looks concerned. She looks nervous. Harry gives Ginny a kiss on the neck and slips away. Hermione's eyes don't leave him for a second. I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this. Ginny just keeps talking, it doesn't even occur to her to be worried.

"..don't you think?"

Ah fuck, maintaining conversation.

"Sorry? I couldn't hear you over the music."

Plausible. Real plausible. You puts.

"I was asking if you agreed that a spring wedding would be safe in terms of rain."

Uhm... yes?

"Uhm... probably. If not, I'm sure we can figure something out."

"I'm sorry Neville, I know you're not really interested outside of the garden."

I focus back on Ginny again. She's smiling wryly, her new stone glittering in the light. I wonder how many people have underestimated her because of that pretty face.

"Oh no, I am. Interested. Just, thinking how sad it'll be to show up stag at your wedding."

She laughs at my cover, "Well, we can just set you up with one of my pretty cousins. I have a whole catalogue to choose from!"

Just picture it, a whole catalogue of girls to be completely uninterested in me. Ah, the possibilities.

I glance at the door way again and... Harry's back. He looks a bit harassed, but he heads over to Ron and the drink table with a smile thrown in our direction.

"I hope everything's alright. Hermione's been so stressed out recently."

"Mmm."

And without another word or thought, my legs carry me to the door and out into the corridor. Why oh why do you hate me legs? There's a soft sound coming from the right. I doubt you would even hear it if you weren't listening for it.

She's slumped on the ground, leaning against the wall. Face in hands, head shaking. It's the saddest thing I've seen in a long time. She glances up at my foot steps, tears streaming. She tries to smile, but it doesn't seem likely to happen.

"This is where you say 'I told you so'." Her voice is quiet, a touch of mortification slips in there.

Merlin, she really doesn't know me, does she? This girl I've been in love with for years really has no idea. I sit down next to her, the marble floor even less comfortable sitting than standing.

"I don't think that's what comes next."

We're both silent for a moment, I lean my head back and close my eyes. I'm really just right next to her. Funny how happy that would've once made me. Now I just feel tired.

"I tried to tell him. How I feel. He didn't want to hear it. So I tried to kiss him. He asked me what in the world I was trying to do. What kind of 'friend' am I?"

Her voice wavers between anger and despair.

"I'm not sure what I'm more upset about: the thoughtless rejection or the fact that he has no idea how I feel. For how long I've felt this. He thinks I'm tired and stressed and scared of losing one of my best friends to marriage. How utterly humiliating."

I glance over at her, she looks devastated. But at the same time, there's a strength to her I haven't seen for a long time.

"So what's the plan?"

"I'm going to get over this. I'm going to go to their wedding and be happy. I so want to be happy."

Me too. Merlin knows, me too.

My heart beat quickens suddenly, ever had that moment where you realise something monumental? Cause I think I'm having it right now: I am over Hermione Granger. Actually. I'm not saying it to save my dignity. It's not even to get back at her for throwing herself at Harry. I'm saying it because it's finally true. Because I know and accept that as much as I loved her, there's no way it was ever going to happen in a way that was healthy.

And didn't end up including Harry Potter Polyjuice.

It's just a shame I've managed to realise it while she's in the middle of a break down.

"You will be you know. Happy someday. It seems impossible for so long. But it'll happen when you least expect it."

Like outside of the inaugural YVD Festival.

She smiles slightly, her eyes shining with the next round of tears. "You know, right now, I almost believe you."

So, with a deep breath she stands up, brushes off her dress and stares down at me.

"I'm going to head home. Can you tell anyone who asks I was exhausted and just wanted to get some sleep?"

"Sure. Sweet dreams."

And like that, she's gone. And I'm left alone with my epiphany.

I need a drink.


End file.
